The Ashford Chronicles
by Shady-777
Summary: A sort of side-ficlet to my other stories. Details the lives of the Ashford family between " A New Tide" and "Crimson Africa" starting with Alexia's daughter Alexis and then moving on to the rest...DISCONTINUED
1. The Alexis Chronicles Pt I

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**A/N: **To any new readers, welcome on the ride! I'm writing a series of Resident Evil fics, so if you want to know anymore about the characters/places I mention, just check out my other R/E fics or email me. (^_^) 

Okay, with this piece I hope to explore via 1st person POV some of the things that happened between "A New Tide" and "Crimson Africa" This fic deals mainly with the Ashfords but other familiar characters do make appearances.

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Disclaimer: I cannot stress enough how much I do **NOT **_own the R/E franchise. :( Wish I did…_

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Today was a school day. You know the drill: get up before the chickens, shower to both get clean and avoid falling asleep where you stand, dress, and grab a quick piece of toast on the way out the door. Then you stand around freezing your butt off with the usual gang of geeks while you wait for the bus to slooowly roll by. Once aboard, it's nothing but bumps and jerky stops and starts that cause you to mess up on your homework due first period so it looks like a kindergartener wrote it. This is followed by the first forbidding sight of the school building, and oh, say, three minutes to get your stuff together before first period.

For me, first period was biology class. Not my favorite class. Not by a long shot. 

Of all the teachers in the vastness of the infinite universe, the fates saw fit to stick me with Mr. Houlwer, the most boring, unimaginative teacher in history. 

Does he try to be funny? No.

Does he try to spice the lessons up to the point where you can actually stay awake listening to them? Nope.

Does he ever do fun projects or engage the class in a debate? No again.

Does he even understand the concept of the word _fun_? Definitely not.

So is it my fault if I happen to fall asleep during one of his long, robotic lectures?

I'd like to think not.

" Miss Ashford! " Mr. Houlwer's less-than-patient voice bellowed like a foghorn, snapping me fully awake in less than two seconds flat.

Busted!

" Huh? Wha…? " I jerked my head off my desk aware of half the class snickering in the background.

" This is a classroom, not a bedroom. Stay awake long enough and you might actually learn something." His beady eyes bore down on me, waiting for the right reply.

I yawned. " Sorry."

Satisfied, Mr. Houlwer turned back to the blackboard and gestured to some strange alien-looking diagrams and symbols--continuing his lecture as if it were never interrupted. You want to picture Mr. Houlwer, think of a short, gray-haired old man with a chiseled face fixed into a permanent frown. The Lecture King. He talks with all the feel and emotion of the Clear Eyes commercial guy on TV, the one who says _'For dry, red eyes, Clear Eyes is awesome. Wow.' _

Isn't that exciting? Isn't that the kind of voice that really captures and holds your attention?

Oh, hi, by the way. My name is Alexis Ashford. I'm your typical down-to-earth fifteen year old with a not-so-typical past.

My parents are evil. Not evil as in they make me clean the house from top to bottom every night with a toothbrush, or go to bed too early, or even prevent me from hanging out with my friends at the mall on Saturdays. I mean evil as in killing-people evil. My mother more-or-less killed my grandfather. My father owned a prison island where he kept torture chambers and performed cruel and painful experiments on the less fortunate.

Sound too crazy to be true? Believe me, it is.

I wasn't raised by my parents. I'm not living with them now. Lucky me.

At the end of the period, Mr. Houlwer called me aside. I had a feeling this was going to be another one of those I-know-you-can-be-better-than-this speeches, and I wasn't disappointed. 

" Alexis, have you been keeping a healthy sleep schedule? " He folded his hands on his desk and stared at me with a concerned frown. With Mr. Houlwer, every emotion is expressed by a frown.

I resisted the urge to frown back. " Of course not." It was a lie--horrible nightmares about my family had been cropping up lately and completely destroying any semblance I had of a healthy sleep schedule. Not that I could tell my teacher that. He would never understand.

" Problems at home, perhaps? " He was just trying to be helpful. It would be more helpful if he were less helpful. 

I bit my tongue and resisted the urge to tell him that if I wanted to talk about my problems I would visit the counselor's office.

" No. Everything's fine." I am a pretty good liar when it suits me. Perhaps because my whole life has been built on lies.

I checked the clock, praying Mr. Houlwer would just end the talk here and let me go to second period. I was probably going to be late as it was--my locker is placed in the most inconvenient position in the building in relation to my classes. It's upstairs and the majority of my classes are downstairs. I guess they figured I'd enjoy the workout running up and down steps, arms loaded with heavy books, in a wild rush to beat the clock.

" No, everything's _not_ fine." Mr. Houlwer droned, dashing my hopes of making it to class on time, " You're getting behind in your grades. Turning in half-completed assignments, flunking quizzes, zoning out in class…"

" Guilty as charged! " I put on a phony smile, " I know I've got to work on that. In fact, I can have chapter four Study Guide in by…"

" I know you can do better than this." He shook his head, not buying. Darn. I hate it when teachers can see right through you like that.

" I expect more from Alexia's niece. You're better than this. You can get A's. It's in your blood. All you have to do is…" 

Mr. Houlwer continued into a long lecture about healthy habits, goal-setting, and self-motivation, and I'd add a word here or a nod there; you know--just so he'd think I was listening.

The truth was, he would never understand the true reason I was failing biology. It wasn't something a hang-in-there speech or even a counselor could fix.

Mr. Houlwer was a big fan of Alexia Ashford; the child prodigy and master researcher of Umbrella Inc. in the field of bio-genetics who supposedly vanished--or died, depending on who's account you're hearing--when she was fifteen. Therefore, since I'm a blood relative, he automatically assumes I should be just as smart in biology as her, and holds me to a higher standard than everyone else because of it. 

Unfortunately, Mr. Houlwer is one of the few people in this city who can rightfully claim to know much of anything at all about my family. 

But there are things even the biology professor doesn't know: starting with the fact that Alexia isn't my aunt. Well, okay, she _is _but she _isn't_. She's my mother.

Confused? It gets weirder.

Ok, hold on and prepare for the twisted and insane truth--my parents are twin brother and sister.

I'm not proud of this. I'd be nuts to be proud of this. How, you may ask, is something like this possible?

To answer that, we need to go back in time a few decades to the heyday of my one and only grandfather, Alexander Ashford. 

Now, I wasn't around back then obviously, so most of what I know comes from what Dad and the Redfields told me based on the information they gathered. 

Alexander along with his buddy Spencer owned a pharmaceutical company by the name of Umbrella Inc. They studied viruses for use in bio-organic warfare. For some strange reason I shall never truly understand, Granddad was obsessed with our ancestor Mistress Veronica. I guess she was very smart. This gave Gramps an idea, something along the lines of '_Hey! I've always wanted children, why don't I use my science expertise to isolate the intelligence gene, then 'make' my own perfect child?'_

And that's just what he did.

I suppose he thought he'd get some supergenius dreamchild who would help him in his studies since he had been messing up in his work lately. Instead he got twins: my parents, Alfred and Alexia Ashford.

Grandma…who was Grandma? I may never know. None of my family ever made mention of her, and for that I can only assume she died when my parents were very young.

Mom was indeed a genius. She graduated college at ten years of age, and, as Mr. Houlwer pointed out, became a top researcher for our company. 

Dad had only above average intelligence and an unhealthy infatuation for my mother.

My whole family was extremely rich--nine out of every ten homes own Umbrella products--but it's true what they say about money not being able to buy love. My parents grew up despising their father. They viewed him as a failure unworthy to the Ashford name. They were especially upset when they learned the truth behind their birth. Not that I blame them--I'd be upset too learning that I was created as little more than an experiment.

However, I do believe they went overboard on how they handled the situation. 

Around that time, my parents…Mom in particular, were obsessed with ants. She thought theirs was the perfect society--a single queen ruling over all other meaningless nothings. 

I know something about ants myself: a worker ant's soul purpose is to serve it's queen. It is all they exist for. They have no dreams, goals, ambitions…no desire to be different, no desire to be individual creatures, no desire to be anything more than a tool. No fights, no arguments, no stealing or criticizing others. All they care about is the well-being of the queen.

Well, Mom thought this perfect utopian society would make humans a better race, and what better candidate for Queen Ant than herself? After all, she was the smart one. She knew better than nature or some all-powerful being how to solve the problems of mankind. It was her place…no, her _destiny_ to become Queen and rule over all humans. Everyone would exist to serve her just as the ants in the anthill.

Mom had a slight superiority complex, in case you haven't already figured it out. And it's because of her that I dislike ants and everything associated with them.

You see, the fatal flaw with the ant society is that it leaves no room for free will or individuality. Being an ant wouldn't be too different from being a mindless machine, unable to think for yourself.

No thank you. I'd rather not be some mindless drone going around saying '_What is thy bidding, Master?' _Or _'Can I bring you an extra pillow, my queen?_' That would be a dreary, hopeless existence indeed. Nothing to look forward to. No future.

Mom couldn't see this. Or maybe she did. To this day, I don't know if her plan was brought about only to benefit her for her own selfish needs, or if she truly thought she could do some good for humankind by offering them a utopian society free of war, disease, hunger, and suffering. Evidence strongly points to the former, but I haven't given up hope that maybe she had good intentions.

Whatever the case, she found an ancient virus within the cell of a queen ant and experimented with it on Grandfather--mutating him into a nasty, hideous beast--a mere shell of his former self.

I don't know exactly when this happened, but I'm guessing around the same time I was born. Mom apparently deduced--correctly--that sleeping for fifteen years in a solution-filled tube would stabilize her virus and give it time to adjust to her cells, ergo not mutating onto a brainless monster like Grandfather.

In the meantime, my father went totally crackers without her and started cross-dressing and pretending he was her.

And here they were worried about _Grandfather _giving us Ashfords a bad name!

In my opinion they didn't need any help from him dragging our name through the mud. The fact that my father is a transvestite who can perfectly imitate my mother's voice is downright embarrassing! In fact, if I had to reveal one embarrassing truth about our family and was given a choice between that or admitting to being inbred, I think I'd chose the inbred.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Dad went nuts. He tortured and killed the prisoners of Rockfort for no obvious reason. 

Months ago, the Redfield sibs Chris and Claire ended up at their facilities just as Mom conveniently woke from her snooze ready to rule the world.

Still with me? Good. Because I might lose you with this next part. 

Mom and Dad were stopped. Stopped as in killed. Dad died of a gunshot wound he received while trying to kill Claire, and Mom mutated into a horrible ant-dragonfly monster Chris had to kill with a linear launcher. Then the whole Antarctic base blew up.

Don't ask me _how _they managed to come back to life given those circumstances. It is a mystery that would baffle Einstein himself.

Anyway, thinking about it now, I don't really suppose how they came back is all that important. The important thing is they did.

I had a brief encounter with them at an HCF base only weeks ago. They were out for revenge, and they wanted me to join them. Only, in the final seconds when it really counted and the bomb was about to explode, they abandoned me. It worked out pretty well though--now I live with the Redfields in good 'ol Bayview Oregon, and I haven't seen or heard from them since. It's just as well, I don't think I could live with them being evil and all.

So where do I fit into all of this? I'm not sure. I'm not sure why I exist. I have an older brother named Ash, and I'm not sure why _he_ exists either. 

Our parents were only fourteen when he was born, and fifteen when I was. It'd be like me having kids. What's more, they shifted us immediately onto established caretakers--Ash got a different set than me--and seemed content to pretty much stay out of our lives save the once-in-a-blue-moon visits from Dad. There were two, I think. Visits. Can't you just feel the love?

Which begs the question, what did they want with us? Did they ever really love us?

Mom probably didn't. She went off to hibernate in her tube not giving a rat's butt what became of her own children.

I think that Dad did though: he went to great lengths to ensure we were well provided for and fought to keep mine and Ash's last names even to the extent of publicly admitting he was our father.

It goes without saying that Ash and I weren't born in a hospital. I think we were born in Mom's room…but that's just a guess. Could've been on an alter at a church for all I know.

Think of it--the blessed babies! Children of the ant goddess to be worshipped forever! Not bloody likely.

My ' birth certificate ' correctly states Alfred as my biological father, but lists my mother as ' Linda? ' I have no idea what line of bull my dad fed investigators to get _that_ work of fiction accepted as legal. Even if she had died, how could he not remember her last name?

Not that I blame him for lying about it. Twin incest is rare, and for good reason.

I could never in a hundred bajillion years even _imagine_ imagining my brother Ash that way, and we're not even twins!

Gross!

Beyond gross, it's downright _sick._

So only a handful of people know the truth, Chris and Claire being among them. Though frankly, I'm surprised more people haven't put it together by now…I resemble my parents enough to be their triplet sister. Like my mother, I also posses the icy blue eyes and long blonde hair. I even inherited a fine widow's peak hairline from my father.

Not to say Mom's my mirror image--she's not. There are a few notable differences in our jawlines and the slant of our faces. I have a more youthful, innocent look about me: at least that's what Claire and Steve say. 

If there's anything at all I can thank my parents for, it's my looks. I've never been ashamed of that. Just the whole killing people and trying to take over the world bit.

Perhaps the weirdest thing of all is--despite the fact that they are evil socio-paths, and despite the fact that I have spent very little actual time around them, I still love my parents. I hope that one day maybe I can help them. I don't know if it will work: making people see the error of their ways may sound easy on paper, but in reality it is a hard, slow healing process that requires a lot of time, work, and patience for everyone involved. 

There is also the scary fact that not everyone can be changed. Not everyone _wants_ to change. It is a grim truth, but one I have to accept. Mom and Dad may be perfectly happy living the way they are. 

I don't really believe that. And that's one of the reasons I will never give up on them or my misguided brother. Someday I'm going to try to help them whether they like it or not. 

Someday. 

I'm not ready to confront them right now. Maybe a few years down the road I will be.

So…yeah. That's my family situation. Look up Dysfunctional and you'll find our picture.

It was ten minutes past the next bell before Mr. Houwler finally allowed me to to go to my next class with one of those signed permission slips.

Mrs. Sauder, my history teacher, was a little upset when I showed up late. She just kinda frowned and gestured to the only vacant seat in the classroom. Which just happened to be behind Jim, a.k.a. the biggest jerk in the whole school.

Oh brother. Quietly as I could, I made my way over and plunked down in the empty seat, hoping I wouldn't catch his attention.

Unfortunately, I did.

He turned and flashed me a smile.

Not wanting trouble, I just kinda smiled back. What else could I do? 

Jim is well-feared by the guys in our school, and with good reason. He tips the scale at over two hundred pounds, but only about two percent of that is fat. He is very muscular and bench-presses weights heavier than me every day. The result of this, of course, is that he is very strong. He plays a lot of different sports, including football, and a lot of the girls like him. He's decent-looking. Not handsome, but decent.

However, the fact that he likes to pick on people he deems geeks, nerds, or losers--which, by the way, is just about everyone--kinda takes the shine off of his potential to be a really great guy. He really believes he is the all-time greatest person to walk the halls of Bayview Highschool.

For a blessed moment, the teacher looked our way and he turned back around. I settled down and opened my book to the said page number, trying to concentrate on the lesson.

But Jim wasn't through with me. The second the teacher dimmed the lights and started the video on ancient Egyptian life, he turned back and leaned over his seat until his face was only inches from mine.

" Hey there."

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**I work for reviews! ^_^**


	2. The Alexis Chronicles Pt II

" Hi." I didn't want to be rude, and it was the only polite thing I could think of to say.

Jim flashed me a toothy grin, his poster-boy perfectly white teeth standing straight and tall. It didn't take a genius like my mother to figure out that he was flirting with me. Probably envisioning the two of us on a date while he picked on nerds and loners.

Bugger that.

I peered around his side, deliberating avoiding eye-contact to get a better view of the movie in what I hoped would be a giant hint. Jim is always bad news. And he's really snobby to some really nice people. Not only that, but ancient Egypt fascinates me and he was so totally ruining my view.

I can't help it; history intrigues me. I really enjoy learning about the past and what times were like in the days before television, video games, and all this modern stuff. I could just imagine living in ancient Egypt, drinking the sweet waters of the Nile and watching the pyramids rise beneath a sapphire sky…I'll bet the air was cleaner back then. Sweeter.

Don't get me wrong, I love technology, but I think humankind has been abusing our beautiful planet over the past hundred years. Too many wars and too much pollution. When will we ever learn?

With a major frown, Jim turns his head back to the program and leaves me alone for the time being. Phew.

After the film, the teacher turned the lights back on and turned to smile at us with the giddiness she always gets before a round of questioning so in depth that sometimes it feels more like an interrogation, and sometimes I feel like yelling, " The secret weapons are in the underground chamber! Ah! " You get the picture. She just really gets into it I guess, and there's nothing wrong with that.

" Ok, so who was their sun god? Anybody remember? "

My hand shot up instantly. I knew his one! Ra! It was Ra!

She looked my way and I waved my hand frantically like a madwoman until I thought it would fall off. So what does she do? She calls on the girl to my right.

" Jenny? "

" Ra." Jenny's answer came smug and sure. She shot me a triumphant smirk. 

I lowered my arm with a soft sigh. Figured.

Is it just me or do teachers wait until you _don't_ know the answer before they call on you? This wasn't my day.

Next class was Math, then French before lunchtime finally rolled around to save me. And just in the nick of time, too. Math went okay I suppose, well as okay as it could be being _math_ and all, but French was a complete total nightmare. 

I'd totally butchered a French sentence, and instead of saying 'Sally's mother is thirty-nine' I'd ended up saying 'Sorry Sally red nine', and as if that weren't bad enough I even said _that _meaningless phrase wrong. Ugh. French is not one of my better subjects. The whole class had a good laugh at my expense, and the teacher decided I needed extra homework. Funny how the ground never opens up and swallows you when you want it to.

Lunchtime. Thank the heavens for such a wonderful concept! A whole half hour to relax and enjoy a meal.

Okay, so maybe the word 'enjoy' doesn't belong in the same sentence used to describe my school's food.

I grabbed a tray and stood in line next to an oriental girl with long jet-black hair swept back in a ponytail.

She looked at me and smiled. " Alexis, huh? I'm Tshondra. I sit next to you in drama, remember? "

I vaguely recalled a girl of her description from drama…I'd only been going to this school for a week now, even though everyone else was almost finished with the quarter.

" Oh yeah." I grabbed a carton of chocolate milk and watched her snatch one of the same. Then we moved up to the specialty of the day: a lump of mystery meat the school cooks so fondly referred to as meatloaf with a hoagie roll or a soggy way-undercooked pizza.

Tshondra grabbed the pizza and made a face. " The food at my last school was better."

" That would pretty much have to be true, unless your last school was a concentration camp."

She snickered a bit and grabbed an apple.

" Don't forget your goo." I gestured to a shallow Dixie cup full of what passed for gelatin. We both grabbed a cup, then it was on to the lunch lady.

After paying, we went to a table basically devoid of life and sat far off to the end. I was hoping Tshondra and I could get off to a good start. Having a friend would ease the suffering of the school days and help me to think less of the home I'd had to leave.

" So how's it going? " She asked, taking a bite of pizza.

I poked my gelatin with a plastic fork and it actually began to ooze. 

Passages from _'It came From the Cafeteria' _flashed through my mind. That book had been about killer gelatin. It was cute, but not in any way realistic.

" Fine I guess." I lifted my pizza to my mouth, " Had a bit of trouble in French class, but it's over now."

" Ah." Tshondra chewed, processing, and I finally raked up the courage to try a bite of the soggy pizza.

It tasted awful. I really needed to start bringing my own lunches.

" You're new huh? Did you know there's already a rumor going around about you? "

" Really? " I sat the offending pizza back down and tried my luck with the apple, " Is it good or bad? "

At least the apple was good. Nice and crispy. So unusual of school apples.

" Well, a lot of people seem to think you're rich."

A bite of apple caught in my throat. " Rich? " Whoever knew I had money had to know at least something about my heritage. Not a thought I was comfortable with.

Tshondra nodded, " Yeah. I'm just wondering…are you? Y'know, just for the record? "

I washed the stuck bit of apple down with some chocolate milk. " Well, I'm not what you'd call super-rich, but I am well off." I admitted, opting for honesty here. Friendships built around lies are doomed to fail, and I didn't want to give my new friend any reason to be suspicious of me.

Tshondra's eyes widened a bit. " Really? Cool! I bet you live in a really big house."

" Actually, no, but it's big enough." I confessed, thinking of Chris and Claire's houses and how they were nice and roomy but not exactly _huge_. I spend equal time at both houses, getting to know the Redfield sibs better. They were very appreciative of the few million I gave them to buy the places and get a business started. Were it not for my inheritance, we'd all probably be living in a low-income apartment somewhere. Well, at least until everyone found good jobs that is.

I've never had the luxury of living at one of my parents' many manors scattered throughout the world. I stayed the night with my father once or twice in a mansion and that's it. He bought me everything I wanted, but we never had time to do much father-daughter bonding. In fact, most of the time I was there I spent playing with Ash. 

Tshondra looked down at her carrot sticks as if they were completely alien. " Must be nice. I live in a two bedroom trailer with my mother and little sister. We have to share a room and it like, so totally sucks because she's only three and she likes to get into my stuff and ruin it. I found two of my brand new CDs with scratches and crayon marks all over them yesterday, and when I told Mom she was all like, well Sammy's only three. Like that excuses everything she does. I swear, my little sis could get away with murder. You have any siblings? "

I frowned. " A brother. I don't live with him though…."

" Ah, your parents are separated then? "

" Wha…no! Actually our parents are kinda….outta the picture. We each live with a different adopted family. It's been like that since we were both very young. I don't get to see much of him."

Tshondra is sympathetic. " That must bite." She narrowed her eyes on me, pizza frozen inches from her mouth. " You look…familiar somehow. What's your last name? " 

Gulp. This conversation washurtling towards rocky very quickly. I felt myself wilt under her scrutiny. " Ashford."

I prayed she would not be familiar with it. My family are not some popular people. You don't make many friends torturing, killing, and experimenting on people. You just don't. I reached for a carrot stick, silently praying.

Tshondra sat the pizza back down without taking another bite; not that I could blame her. " Now I remember! I heard on the news somewhere where a military facility exploded on Rockfort Island a few months ago. The reporter said there were a lot of casualties, including a guy named Alfred Ashford who was supposed to be the head of some big-wig company. They showed a picture. Now my memory's kinda fuzzy, but you seem to resemble him. He was rich too, as I recall. A relative of yours? "

I tried to appear calm and indifferent. " Alfred? I don't…I mean, maybe he's a distant cousin of mine but I don't know him personally." I replied, feeling horrible.

I know this girl for ten minutes and already I'm lying to her. _Way to go, Alexis, _I mentally scolded myself, _way to build the trust_. Must be in the Ashford blood.

Tshondra shrugged. " Just thought it was worth mentioning. You know, my cousin was making a big deal out of it because he had an older friend who worked as a guard there and turned up missing a few weeks before the big kablooie. Weird huh? They say it was terrorist attacks that caused the explosion, but they don't really know. Rumor has it they were testing illegal weapons there. What do you think? "

I nipped into the carrot stick, barely taking any of the orange vegetable into my mouth. " Honestly? I don't know." 

Actually I did--the island was first attacked by Wesker and then my father set it on self destruct for some reason or another; probably to try and toast Claire and Steve along with anyone else who would dare try and make it out alive. Sad to say, but Tshondra's cousin's friend probably died at the hands of my father. He condemned quite a few people to the guillotine from what I hear. Of course, the ones that got beheaded were the lucky ones.

I nibbled some more on my carrot, trying my best to shake the horrible images from entering my mind. Those poor people.

It was then that I noticed my new friend staring off across the lunchroom with an I-can't-believe-it expression. I spun around in my seat and tried to find the source.

It took me a few moments to spot the chunky kid a little ways off at a crowded table being bullied by Jim. Jim said something which caused a few other kids near his side to laugh heartily and the overweight kid to flinch uncomfortably. Even though I couldn't hear the remark, I didn't suppose it was 'Hey, how's it going?'

Something needed to be done.

" Tshondra, hold on a sec." I announced, getting up and starting for the riot.

" Alexis wait! That's Jim Iverson the…." But I wasn't listening.

I can't stand people who pick on other people. Really, quite uncalled for. Trying to make themselves look better by putting people down. 

Jim looked up as I approached. " Oh, will you look what we got here? The star of the show has arrived! " 

That roused a few chuckles from his mates.

I waited until I was almost face to face with him. " Look you guys, why don't you go find something more mature to do? "

" Spicy! " Jim laughed, turning to his buddies, " What'dya think guys? Should we leave Fatso alone just because she tells us too? "

More chuckles. I found myself wondering right then how funny they'd feel in my father's torture chambers.

" The heroine comes to save the day! " A tall thin guy with brown hair laughed, " How we worship thee almighty goddess! " His voice dripped sarcasm.

Next to me, the heavy kid frowned. " It's alright, really. Why don't we just go sit somewhere else? " 

Actually, that was a very good idea. Leave these jerks to their table, we didn't have to sit around and take this. " Sure." I glowered at Jim and the Jerk Squad, hoping that for just once I could muster up some of the pure icy evilness my mother is so good at perfecting. " Come on." 

Overweight kid grabbed his tray and I helped him with his book bag. " Over there." I pointed to the table where Tshondra was already getting up, a worried gleam in her eye.

Unfortunately, it proved to be a bad decision to turn my back on the schoolyard boss. A rough shove against my back sent me stumbling forward. 

" Nobody gives me the brush-off that easily, Doll." Jim's voice.

Any other day I might have just brushed it off, refused to lower myself down to his level. Report him to a teacher. That would be the most mature thing to do. Any other day.

Today was not any other day. I'd show that jerk!

Thinking quickly, I snatched my benefactor's tray right out of his hands and whirled around in a frenzy, smashing the contents right into Jim's pretty-boy face. 

For a moment the whole lunch room went silent as everyone turned their eyes to me and a very unhappy Jim. 

It really was comical. Chunks of the mystery meatloaf dribbled down his face in gooey brown rivers, flakes of mashed potato muck clung to his hair, and his fancy designer shirt was completely coated in slimy green gelatin and milk. The carrot sticks, of course, were on the floor.

Score one for the good guys! Victory never felt so sweet. 

I only wished I had brought a camera; I could take a picture or two, make copies, and then tack them all over the school. That would take Jimmy down a peg or two!

After about two seconds of unchallenged silence, the whole lunchroom roared with laughter. Even Jim's jerk squad were not above having a good laugh at their leader's expense. I couldn't help myself either.

" Better watch who you call a doll, jerk! " I laughed. 

Jim narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth in a threatening growl that would've been more threatening if he didn't look positively ridiculous.

I spotted an aid making her way through the throngs of kids towards us. So did Jim.

" This isn't over, Alexis." He hissed. To the aid he called, " Over here! This girl just smashed a food tray in my face! "

I stood my ground, totally prepared to argue my case while at the same time hoping I didn't get lunch detention every day for the next month.

The older lady reached us in moments and gave Jim and I a humorless scowl. Her graying hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and her wrinkled features cut deep into her face; especially around the corners of her mouth. 

A rebel grandma without a cause. My hopes sank.

" What happened here? " Rebel Grandma barked, her voice just as harsh and raspy as I would've expected, " You! " she turned her murderous glare on me, " Why did you toss the tray in his face? "

" He was being a world-class jerk and bullying that kid," I jabbed a finger at the overweight kid whose name I had yet to learn, " So I offered to let the boy come sit at my table and then Jim pushed me once I had my back turned so I flung the food in his face. And he deserved it! " To the heavy kid I said, " Sorry about your food….I'll buy your lunch tomorrow. Kay? "

He nodded, " Sure! I'm Josh by the way. Josh Weaver."

I dared a quick wink. " Alexis Ashford."

" Enough! " Rebel Grandma bellowed. She handed me a pink slip. " Detention! Room B-9. And if you try and skip it I'll know and you'll have to serve double! "

That wasn't fair!

" But what about Jim…" I started.

" He's to go clean up."

" But he was teasing Josh! Shouldn't he get detention too? "

Rebel Grandma snorted. " I've no proof of that."

" Actually, Jim _was_ teasing me! " Josh shouted, coming to my rescue.

Rebel Grandma just shook her head, frowning. " In that case…" She handed Jim a pink slip, obviously not wanting the bother of going through a full interrogation to try and find the truth. " After you clean up, go see the counselor. You know this school has zero tolerance for that sort of thing."

Jim pressed his lips together in a tight line, giving me the evil eye. " Fine."

BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!

The bell rang just then, if you could call that annoying buzz a ring, signaling the end of lunch period. Rebel Grandma turned to go, keeping an eye on me to make sure I headed for room B-9.

She would never listen to me, of that I was certain. For the first time in my life, I was getting detention. 

And all because I was trying to help someone.

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A/N: flashback next chapter! Sorry if this seems a little slow going, it should start picking up pretty quickly.

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Fahsky: _Okay, with the Alexia deal, there are conflicting reports as to when she went into actual hibernation. Some believe she was 12, but I heard somewhere where she was 15 and that's what I'm sticking to since it's the only scenario which allows me to bring in Ash and Alexis in a halfway believable fashion. My version might not be one-hundred percent correct, but it makes sense if you believe she was 15 when she went into hibernation and 30 when she came out. Bear with me here. ^^;;_

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Sych77: _Aw, thanks for the review! *sniffles* I finished Crimson Africa as you already know and Curse of Veronica is not too far away. _

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Katiana: _Thanks for the review! Glad you're enjoying it. =D_

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Screaming Eagle: _You will see more twistedness ( lol, is that even a word? ) later on in this fic when I get to some of Alexis's less-caring family members. Alexis herself is very mild on the twisted scale, sorry to disappoint. ^^_

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Shakahnna: _You like? Great! And yeah…thought I'd try some slightly less stressful stuff than being chased around by monsters for my characters. Lord knows I've already put them through Hell and back, they needed a little break. ^_^_


	3. The Alexis Chronicles Pt III

**Part III**

Detention. Thrills. As I made my way down the halls I noticed several posters lining the walls about getting involved and being a better person. Some recommended _Family Fun Nights_; chances to get together with the whole family and just do fun things.

Right.

Let's see, I wonder would constitute as 'family fun' for my family?

Images of music playing down in a torture chamber flashed through my mind. Dad would probably be cross-dressed as my mother complete with makeup and wig while singing and dancing to the tune of said music, Mom would be performing painful experiments on some unfortunate individual, and Ash would be sniping people just for the fun of it. Not anywhere I'd want to be, mind you.

It occurred to me, and not for the first time, just how badly messed up my family was. A bunch of homicidal psychos. Sucks to be me.

Alrighty here, let's see….B-9, B-9.…where the heck was B-9? Someone was lazy with the labeling around here. Obviously they figured you could guess. Either that or they didn't want you to find your way around the building.

I rounded a corner and nearly collided with a guy going the opposite direction.

" Oops! I'm sorry, I…." 

But he wasn't listening. Instead, the red-haired kid wearing a football uniform peered at my slip and grinned. " Detention huh? It's about time some of you rich snobs got what you deserve."

I couldn't believe the nerve of this guy! " _Excuse_ me? We've just barely met! Normally I'd say pleased to make your acquaintance, but I'm really not so if you happen to know where the detention room is I'll just be on my way."

Football Guy jabbed a finger down the hall. " Second door to the right. Can't miss it." 

I nodded. So the guy _did_ have a shred of decency. " Thank you." 

I hadn't made it halfway there before I heard another boy ask, " Who was that? " To which Football Guy responded, " Little Miss Snob."

That did it. Mrs. Phelps had always raised me to be proper and act well-bred, but sometimes when dealing with people like this I found it worked best to speak their language. I stopped and turned around, not caring who was watching.

" You want to see a snob? Just look in the mirror you jerk! " Quickly, before they had time to respond, I spun around on my heel and hurried off to B-9 catching only, " Dude, why'd you do that? She's pretty." From one of Football Jerk's friends. Or maybe _lackey_ would be a more appropriate term in this case. I couldn't see how anyone like that could have any real friends.

First Jim and now this ponce….was the whole football team like that? 'Cause if that was the case they should rename themselves 'The Bayview Jerks.'

I entered the detention, which looked exactly like a normal classroom with desks, a blackboard, and the teachers' fortress of solitude. A few math equations were written on the board. Algebra from the looks of it. Apparently this room doubled as a math class at some point during the day. Looked like this was not a fun room to be in no matter what.

Four other kids were also here, three boys and a girl, all of varying ages.

An older woman was sitting at the command desk, her face fixed into same the permanent frown I was getting used to seeing on nearly all of the staff in this school. They didn't look any happier to be here than most of the students. 

I was getting the impression this wasn't a very friendly school. 

She looked up when I came in, then down at a sheet of paper on her desk. " Alexia Ashford huh? Welcome to detention."

One kid snickered.

I made my way over to the desk. " Actually, it's Alexis. Alexia is my middle name." _And my mother's name. _I added silently. Of course, she didn't need to know that. I handed her my slip. " How'd you know I was coming? "

The woman's frown deepened to the extent of the Marinas Trench. She produced a cordless phone and held it up in proud display like a prize. " Phone-in. Seems you picked a fight down in the cafeteria."

_What?!_

" I _so_ did not! " I protested, shocked that that old hag down in the lunchroom would make up such a ridiculous story, " Jim was teasing my friend and…"

" That's enough! " The old witch barked, holding her withered hand up like a traffic cop, " You all say you're innocent, but you're not! This is not a courtroom. It is a _classroom_."

_Yeah, where they teach detention_. I thought, biting my tongue. 

Madam Hag continued on, " And as such you are expected follow the rules, not debate your case. Find a seat. And be quiet. You can work on homework, but there is absolutely _no _talking! " 

I knew better than to argue.

Defeated, I went over and plopped down in one of the back seats farthest away from everyone else.

One boy--a cute Latino around my age--gave me a sympathetic look before returning his attention back to his work.

No one else even looked back.

Madam Hag turned her attention back to the book she was reading, probably some cheap romance novel featuring a crabby old woman as the heroine. 

I sighed and began to twist a lock of my straw-colored hair around my finger, wishing I was anywhere but here. 

I hated this school.

Everyone acted like they were eating their daily bowl of Grouchios for breakfast each morning.

Well, maybe it wasn't fair to lump _everyone_ in the same category. There were my new friends Tshondra and Josh. And Miss Honey, my Science teacher, who was as sweet as her name implied. She made teaching about having fun rather than just getting a bunch of boring facts rammed through your skull.

As a result, I'm much happier to do things for her, including homework. Which reminded me--I still had that French homework and a math assignment to do, complete with a family tree project due last period.

Drats. I was going to have to fudge a bit on that one. I could just imagine the teasing if everyone found out my parents were brother and sister. Not only that, I didn't even know who my grandmother was, which was sad since I only had one to start with. What do to in this case? Simple, when you're the inbred offspring of evil company owners you have to improvise.

In this case improvising meant making up some family members. Which would be pretty believable…I mean, there _had _to be other Ashfords out there somewhere, I would just claim kinship with _them _rather than my true roots. And even if there wasn't, who cared? As long as I made it look good, I could claim to be the descendant of George Washington and nobody would be any the wiser. Who was going to check up on this stuff and make sure it was all true anyway?

Of course, this started me thinking about my grandfather for some reason and I felt even more depressed. Thanks to my parents pushing me off into a foster family before I was even two days old, I didn't know much about him other than the facts that he was paranoid, slightly mental, viewed by most as a failure, strangely obsessed with our ancestor Veronica, and, eventually, turned into the monster Nosferatu where he sat for nearly fifteen years before getting free in which Claire and Steve were forced to kill him when he attacked them. 

That had to suck.

But actually, I came very close to meeting my grandfather once when I was just eight years old. That was the same night I discovered some of the twisted and insane secrets about my own heritage. 

The memory resurfaced, and I shut my eyes, recalling times past.

Of course, I didn't know it back then, but I came very close to cracking the secrets of Nosferatu and the inhumane experiments conducted at the Antarctic base long before anyone else…………..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

**__**

Ashford Base, Antarctica, July 20th, 1992

I punched the buttons on the Sega Genesis Controls wildly, my on screen character trying desperately to keep up with Sonic the hedgehog. It was no use. The blue speed demon couldn't care less if his buddy Tails got left behind. Even worse, thanks to some stupid designer of the game, the game focused on Sonic so it was it was very possible to leave the little fox in the dust, but not the other way around. It just wasn't fair.

" Ash will you wait up? " I hollered once my fox finally hovered out of the sky to land near Sonic after like, eighty bajillion minutes of being offscreen.

Ash just laughed and put Sonic into a spinroll, shooting off just as Tails touched the ground.

" _Ash! _" I groused.

" Haha, eat my dust Fluff Face! Foxes suck! Hedgehogs rule! Muhahahaha! I love being evil! " He looked positively ecstatic. 

" But Sonic's a good guy," I pointed out, " and he would wait for his buddy."

Ash never took his eyes offs the screen. " So? Maybe Sonic finally got smart and decided he didn't need no button-nosed flying fox gumming op the works. He declares war! My Sonic declares war on Tails! "

" You can't do that! "

" Watch me." Onscreen, Sonic broke a box containing fifty rings.

I just scooted back further into my beanbag chair and watched. If only he would get to one of those tricky areas….yes! It happened! A steep cliff.

No _way_ Sonic could get up there all by himself. 

I waited for the inevitable.

Ash noticed the problem and stopped Sonic at the foot of the incline. 

After a moment, Tails drifted down, looking cute as ever. I loved that little fox. Sonic, like my brother, could be such a jerk. 

" I command thee! Fly me up there! There's an extra life I think."

I froze my fox. " Under one condition."

For a second, my nine year old brother turned and looked me in the eye. " What? " He sounded agitated.

" Promise you'll wait for me from now on okay? I don't get to play much when you just run off like that. "

" Well then maybe you should move faster." Ash grumped.

Brothers. They can be such pains in the neck.

" But you never give me the chance to! " I brought up, " The second my fox hits the ground off you go like he has a disease."

" He does. _Cuteness. _Yech! " 

" Ash," I said with controlled anger, " if you don't play right….."

" Fine, fine." He cut me off, " Have it your way then. I'll wait for you Grandma."

" Promise? " I asked, ignoring being called a grandma. I had to be sure. My brother was very sneaky about things like that.

Ash rolled his eyes. " I _promise_. Oy, sisters."

" Alright then." I locked the _'B' _button in turbo and proceeded to fly. When my character flew over Sonic, the hedgehog automatically grabbed his paws and then I was flying both of us. Higher and higher we went, up the side of the cliff….

" Okay see you! " Without warning, Sonic jumped out of Tails's paws and sped off before the little fox had a chance to land. So much for that.

" Hey! " I growled, reasonably upset, " What happened to your promise? "

" Promises, like many things in life, can be broken." Ash replied smugly.

I was furious. " You did that out of pure meanness! " I accused, ready to throw my controller at him.

He didn't even look at me this time. " Uh-huh. What are you going to do about it? "

What a jerk! I grabbed his controller and started pressing weird buttons like a madwoman, hoping to get his Sonic killed.

" Stop that! " He complained, yanking back roughly. 

He scratched my hands and I howled in pain. So that was how he wanted it? Well, _two _could play at that game. I dug my longer, sharper nails into the flesh of his hands.

There are times when it really pays to be a girl. We generally let our fingernails grow longer than boys do.

" Yeaaaaaaaahhh! " Ash screamed in pain, " That's it, I'm going to knock your lights out! " He jabbed his elbow for my face.

I sunk down deeper into the beanbag and avoided it easily. Then….

" Yeow! " My hair! He was pulling my hair! 

I grabbed a fistful of his and yanked as hard as I could, causing him to scream.

Then he yanked mine really hard and _I_ screamed. Having your hair ripped from your head is not a good feeling. I felt like I was having my brains yanked out by the roots. I didn't have time to think about much else just then, just trying to get away.

We struggled in the beanbag chairs and I caught a brief glimpse of Sonic jumping into the water and drowning when Ash hit his own control wrong.

About that time the door flew open.

" What's going on in here? Stop it! Stop it at once! " Dad rushed over and smacked Ash on the face. It didn't look particularly hard, but Ash reeled back liked he'd been slugged.

Overactor.

" Now, what started you two fighting like Middle East countries? " He started to sit down in the comfy easychair of our gameroom.

Uh-oh.

" Dad, watch out for the…"

_Sploot! _Too late! Our father sat right upon Ash's abandoned tray of chili cheese fries.

Ash snorted with laughter. 

I couldn't help myself either. It _was_ rather funny. " …cheese fries." I finished.

Dad made a face. " Thank you for the timely warning Alexis," He beamed with phony enthusiasm, " but I'm just keeping them warm."

" Sure you are." Ash chuckled, rolling right onto his Sega controller. The newly resurrected Sonic ran into a pit of lava. 

That reminded me. " Dad, Ash wasn't waiting for my fox and I hardly got a chance to play."

" She's lying! " Ash interjected, " I wait for her all the time! "

" You do not you big fibber! "

" Do too! "

" Do not! "

" Enough! " Dad snapped, silencing us. When our father gets testy, it's usually a good idea to listen to what he says. He can get awfully mean when he wants to. 

I crossed my arms and leaned back in the beanbag. Great. Thanks to my stupid brother we were _both_ probably going to be grounded.

Fortunately, Dad turned his venomous glare to Ash. " A brother and sister shouldn't fight like this! Ash, you oughta be ashamed of yourself. You only have one sister, how would you feel if something were to happen to her? How would you feel if she died tomorrow? Then you would remember forever that the last thing you ever did with her was fight. A sister is a wonderful gift that you should respect. And serve." He started getting a weird dreamy look on his face, like he was zoned out or something. " Yes, sisters are wonderful. So warm. So soft. So beautiful, smart, and voluptuous." He licked his upper lip a bit, " Mmm, Alexia."

" Um…Dad? You're starting to creep me out." Ash said, and for once I agreed with him.

Dad blinked. " Huh? Oh yeah, where was I? "

" Talking about how dumb sisters are." Ash tried.

Naturally, Dad didn't fall for it. " No! You should appreciate your sister."

" Yeah! " I added triumphantly, glad he was taking my side.

Ash scowled. " What would you know about sisters? You sound like you have one."

" I do! " Dad huffed, " A _twin_ sister named Alexia! "

I was skeptical. " Really? Then why haven't we ever seen her before? "

Dad scratched his head quickly and got a really strange look on his face, like he'd just wandered outside with only his underwear on. " Ah well…you see…she's busy. Yeah, _very _busy with all kinds of important stuff. I'll tell you when you get older."

" But you said that about our mom too! " I complained. I really wanted a chance to meet my real mother. She sounded like such a cool person from the bedtime stories Mrs. Phelps told. Then something clicked…" Hey, her name was Alexia too! "

Ash grinned. " Yeah Dad, how many Alexias do you know? "

Now our father was _really_ starting to look uncomfortable. I didn't see what such the big deal was. It was just a question.

" Erm…I'll tell you both when you're _older_."

" Why can't you tell us now? " I asked.

" You wouldn't understand." 

" Hmphf! " Ash snorted, " Everyone thinks us kids are so dumb! Like there's soooo much we don't understand."

" There is! " Dad hissed, " And if you keep that attitude up with me, Ash Ashford, I'm going to turn you over my knee and tan your hide! Your mother would be simply _appalled _by your behavior! " He stood up, chili cheese fries stuck to the seat of his royal blue pants in a disgusting mess.

Gross!

I looked away, tried instead to focus on the TV, but I just couldn't stop laughing.

Thankfully Father did not seem to care about his new fashion statement. He was too busy ragging Ash. " Apologize to Alexis. This instant."

Ash sighed, eyes downcast to the floor.

Justice at last! I waited for his apology.

" S…sssorry." He grumbled.

Dad nodded his approval. " Very good. Now…"

It was then that I noticed something strange. " Dad, you've got something red on your lip." How did I not notice it before? The red smudge was almost as big as a dime.

" Wha…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a _Covergirl _compact mirror. I found this strange. What would my father be doing with a _Covergirl_ compact in his pocket? Wasn't that a strictly girl thing? Hmm. I guess Dad was right. There _was_ still lots I didn't understand.

" What is that? " Ash worded what I'd been thinking in regard to the smudge.

With the aid of the mirror, Dad used a finger to rub the smear away. " Blood! " He laughed maniacally, causing both Ash and I to jump twenty feet.

My father has this really weird laugh…it's very high-pitched and sounds girlish. Very creepy. I didn't know anyone else who could laugh like that.

" No, I mean _really_." I pressed, refusing to believe even for a second that that was in fact blood. Strange as my father may have been, I didn't think he was a _complete_ lunatic. 

At least, I hoped not.

Dad refolded the compact and frowned. " Actually, I have no idea how that got th…"

The door opened and one of our father's servant hustled in, wearing a worried expression. " Sir Alfred! There's a disgruntled employee on the loose! "

Alfred, which was our dad, sighed. " Must be Tuesday. Aren't those ungrateful whelps _ever_ happy? " He put a hand over his eyes, shaking his head. " What is it this time? They don't think I pay enough? "

The servant nodded. " Actually, yes! He's threatened to kill you! And about ten of your other employees with the secret projects division are on strike…"

Dad was furious. " What?! I can't believe the stupidity! What do those fools suppose happened to their _other_ protesting buddies that had a problem with the way I run things? How many deadweights do I have to bump off before they get the point? Ugh, what a bunch of retarded chimps."

" I recommend immediate action, Sir Alfred."

Dad nodded. " Agreed. Randy, get me a chainsaw and have security herd those sorry sods into you-know-where. I'm going to have fun tonight! " He did that weird laugh again and I had to cover my ears.

" Of course Sir." Randy agreed, " I will execute your orders at once."

Dad rubbed his hands together, " Oh believe me, there's going to be some executing alright. A whole _lot_ of executing."

Randy turned on his heel and started off down the hall obediently. Was it just me, or did he look a little sick for some reason? 

I frowned. And here I'd been hoping maybe Dad could play _Sonic and Tails 3 _with me. At least he was in the habit of waiting. Who cared if he sucked royally worse than Ash at the game, at least I got a chance to play. " I guess that means you wont be staying to play with us then? "

Dad patted me gently on the head. " Sorry Fruitcup. Daddy's got a few morons to k…I mean, matters to address." He smiled wickedly like a villain in a TV show right before they were about to do something bad.

Ash's eyes lit up. " Are you going to murder people with a chainsaw? That'd be so cool! "

" Of course not. It's just…..these sodding ponces need scared every once in awhile, you know? Keep them in working order. I figure a chainsaw will do the trick."

I don't know why, but I had a strange feeling he was lying. I didn't know exactly what he planned on doing with the chainsaw, but it felt…wrong. Like maybe he really was going to go off the deep end and cut people to bits. Then again, I couldn't imagine my father murdering anyone….

I shook the ideas from my head. I didn't like to think of such things.

" Aw, that's lame." Ash complained, put out.

" Erm…we'll make up for the lost time later on okay? See you around kids! " He turned and ran out of the room, making weird noises that could almost be interpreted as laughter.

Once we were alone again, I turned to Ash, " Wanna play something else? " I asked, pointing to the 'Game Over' flashing on the screen.

Ash shook his head. " Nah. I've got a better idea, I'm going to explore this place! I'll bet it's got lotsa hidden rooms and really awesome stuff like that."

" Only if I get to come with! "

Ash laughed, " Sure! Long as you don't chicken out if we see something scary."

I do not scare easily. I crossed my heart. " No problem. I'm brave."

" Good! Because I'm going to do something that nobody has ever done before…I'm going to sneak into Dad's room! "

My heart skipped. Dad had said his room was strictly off limits. Nevertheless, I liked the idea of a thrill. Going into the Forbidden. Chancing a spanking. " What if we get caught? "

" Nah, Dad's too busy having fun with a chainsaw. He'll never notice." He waved a hand dismissively, as if the very idea of getting caught were absurd.

" Okay then." I wasn't about to wimp out. 

After all, it was just Dad's room, how scary could it be?

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Continued in Part IV…………. 


	4. The Alexis Chronicles Pt IV

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Thanks for all the reviews everyone! Here is the next installment! YAY! I finally updated this fic! =^.^= Oh, by the way, the slight change in writing styles between Flashback and current-time is intentional. 

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Part IV

After walking what seemed like hours through room after room and hall after hall saying hello to all the nice people who stopped and gawked about how cute we were and then made weird comments once we left, Ash and I arrived at the door to Dad's bedroom. 

" You go first." Ash challenged.

Ahah, I got it: the whole ladies-first deal. Or maybe he was too scared himself to try it first? I grabbed the knob and gave it a hearty spin.

Inside, the room was done all in a pale blue with traces of pink frill here and there. I found this to be odd. Boys didn't like pink, did they?

Ash cocked an eyebrow. " Our father is one strange dude." 

I didn't argue.

We spilt apart to each explore different corners of the room. Ash started for the fancy bed. A shelf in the far right-hand corner caught my eye. It was a large display shelf with lots of pretty red, blue, and green gems rimming a gold trimming. Behind the glass were large toys and models of tanks, fighter jets, jeeps, and all that military stuff.

Wow. Dad must really like the army. All the models looked very real, only miniature and made of plastic rather than metal and alloys. 

Nice, but I wasn't really much into that stuff myself so I lost interest quickly.

What else was there around here? _Yeah, _a voice in my head scolded, _what else can you look at, finger, and possibly break?_ I ignored it. This was too much fun! Hehe, I was going to learn _all_ of my dad's secrets!

My gaze shifted to a nearby nightstand where a solitary picture stood in an expensive gold frame. At least, I guessed it was expensive, as gold is not cheap. " Hey, what do we have here? " I lifted the photo and brought it to eye-level. 

" You see something? " Ash mumbled; rifling through a drawer and leafing through papers.

" Yeah." I turned and held the picture up for him to see, taking the opportunity to read the inscription on the back. " Alfred and Alexia Ashford: 12 years."

" Well whaddya know," Ash mused, impressed, " Looks like Dad _did_ have a twin sister after all. She doesn't look very happy there though."

" Hmm..." I flipped the frame back over to the photo side and studied it closely. " Wow, Dad sure looked different when he was younger."

Two kids, Alfred and Alexia, sat side by side against the backdrop of a red curtain. They looked very much alike. Both had straight blonde hair that was the exact same shade as mine, beautiful ice-blue eyes, and the same basic shape of face. The main distinguishing difference at first-sight was that Dad's hair was cut shorter and had one of those special hairlines that dipped into a 'v' at the forehead while Alexia did not.

Something familiar about that...

I took a second to glance at my reflection in the polished glass and noticed that I, too, possessed a 'v' hairline. So it was one of Dad's traits. I returned my attention to the picture.

Both twins were clothed in what looked to me like a thin gray jacket partially covering a white dress-shirt and with a fancy white collar sporting a red broach in the middle. Dad was wearing a gray belt and gray pants, and Alexia boasted a light green skirt in addition to the belt. Like school uniforms or something. Dad was looking at his sister, lips curved upward just so to form a slight grin, but Alexia's expression bothered me. A cold, ruthless frown. Like she was angry at the whole world. Her glare was aimed at my father, and I didn't like that one bit. 

What was her problem? Too spoiled? Seemed likely, as I had long since learned in school that spoiled kids were often brats.

I felt eyes over my shoulder seconds before, " Whoa, she looks just like _you _Alexis! "

He was right. I did look a lot like our Aunt Alexia--so much, in fact, that it was creepy. She was older than me, of course, but the resemblance was remarkable. 

" Yeah, I guess I do. Wow. So that's our Aunt Alexia." An idea flashed through my mind like white lightning: could this be the same Alexia from Mrs. Phelps's bedtime stories? I don't know what made me think that: the Alexia from the stories was my mother and they couldn't possibly be the same person. Not unless my aunt was my mother, which was just too weird to think about.

" I wonder what happened to her? " Ash asked. Good question.

I shrugged. " I don't know." I traced a finger over the image of Alexia. " Why's she so angry? "

Ash shook his head, clearly just as confused as I was. " Probably had a bad day or something. Everyone gets grumpy sometimes." His face shifted into a look of disgust. " I don't see why Dad liked her so much. All the stories I hear it was like he was her buttmonkey or something. What did she ever do for him? Hmphf, _I_ don't think sisters are the most perfect of perfect angels in the entire universe. I say ship 'em all to Bermuda! "

I snorted. " Why thank you! Maybe I think all brothers should be locked away in a cage and fed their own underwear! "

" At least we're not twins. That would be awful." 

I carefully replaced the picture back on the stand. There. Now Dad would never notice. " Why do you say that? " 

Ash stared at me like I'd just asked which direction was up, " _Because_--then we'd have to _share_ everything. I can't even handle sharing my pencils at school! It's like, gees, can't those ninnies get their own? My god, a pencil doesn't cost _that _much."

I found myself staring at Alexia again. Something in my blood was screaming at me, but I didn't know what. I felt...weird. Like I was somehow connected to Alexia more than her just being my Dad's twin sister. 

Not the best of feelings considering my general bad impression of her. It wasn't a _really_ bad feeling, but a feeling that maybe there was more to her than met the eye.

" You know," I mused, thinking aloud, " They say Alexia was a whiz kid, a child genius. Graduated college and everything at just ten years old." I looked up, meeting his gaze. " Just a year older than you, Ash."

Ash narrowed his eyes jealously at the picture. " Lucky her. When I enter the fourth grade in five or six weeks and I'm in a class doing math problems or zoning out at the blackboard wishing myself anywhere but there, I can just cheer myself up by remembering that _she_ was already finished with school at my age. Whiz kids are _so _lucky. I wish I was a genius. But noooo, that's too much to ask. I get mostly B's. How about you? "

I nodded automatically. " Yeah. Same here." I fibbed. Actually, I got mostly A's, but only because I had to work really hard for them, had to _earn_ them. Of course I couldn't share that with Ash. He'd only get jealous, and my brother is not a fun person to be around when he's jealous. He can get downright mean.

" Hey! Cool, an ant farm! " A gleam of excitement in his eye, Ash shot over to the bedside where a small ant farm was stationed on a nightstand.

Yech. Ants. I'd never really liked them. 

Once when I was four years old I had decided to sneak up past my bedtime to see a scary movie the adults were watching in the front room. This had turned out to be a very bad, bad idea. In it this guy had gotten covered in fire ants and eaten alive in horrifyingly vivid detail. The moment I saw that I screamed bloody murder and Mrs. Phelps had leapt off the couch and caught me before I could get back to bed. She tried to comfort me, to assure me that it was alright, that ants did not really attack people like that. Still, I'd had to sleep in bed with her that night, what with suddenly seeing legions of vicious, bloodthirsty, people-eating ants coming at me from every corner of the room and all. That kind of imagery has a way of gripping the mind.

It was weeks before I could walk outside and not run away in fear every time I saw so much as a single harmless ant. 

While that movie sure hadn't helped matters, I had never been an ant lover from the start. They crawl inside dead animals, which is gross. 

When it comes to insects, butterflies and dragonflies are my favorites hands down.

Ash grinned like an idiot. " Hey Sis, check this out."

" Um...no thanks." I replied.

He flashed me a taunting smirk. " What, you're not _afraid_ are you? "

" No."

" Then what's the problem? "

" Ants are just gross." And they were, too. Even though they may not be able to kill me, a big black one I had found in the crack of a sidewalk once had bitten me pretty hard. Why take chances? 

Ash laughed harshly. " You've obviously never taken a handful of them outside on a sunny day and played 'Firestrike' with a magnifying glass, have you? "

I shook my head quickly. " No! That's..."

" Or poured gasoline on an anthill and tossed a lit match at it." Ash went on, as if I had not said anything, " Ants are fun for tons reasons. You don't know what you're missing! And, hey, they're great for adventures on the high seas! What you do is you find a small twig or leaf and chuck it into the nearest toilet. Then you scrape some ants onto it and let your imagination run wild. Heheh, last time I played a gigantic whirlpool just _happened _to stir out of a clear ocean." A mischievous grin appeared on his face, " One simple flush and it was bye-bye little anties. Down the swirling vortex of doom! Muwhahaha! " He rubbed his hands together in wicked glee. " Come on Sis! Let's do it! We could have two 'ships' this time and..."

" Yuck! Sorry brother dear, but I am not going to lean my face over some crusty old toilet bowl with you and watch ants drown! " What was _wrong _with him?

Ash turned back to the ant farm. " Aw, common, they can swim for a little while. So it's not like they have an easy death or anything. And in case you haven't noticed the toilets around here are _not_ crusty. I saw one down in the west wing that was _solid_ _gold_! "

" A solid gold _toilet_?! Why would anyone want to waste all that gold that on a john?! "

" Beats me," Ash replied, " but it was very pretty." He popped the lid off the ant farm. Probably not a good idea. Our father wasn't going to like this. I felt queasy...we shouldn't be here.

" What are you doing? " I hissed, " If someone catches us we're going to be in mega-sized trouble! " I didn't want to be the one to ruin the party, but I also didn't want to be grounded.

Ash shot me a disdainful look before returning his attention to the freshly opened ant farm. " Gees-Louise Alexis, are you _always_ such a sweet little angel? Where's you're sense of adventure? So we might get caught. We might get grounded. Big deal. Not like Dad's going to _kill _us or anything. Rules were made to be broken. Besides, Dad never said we couldn't mess with his ants. You're not going to chicken out on me now are you? Because we're _partners_ in crime! "

" Well...okay. Just don't do anything _really _bad." He had a point. I couldn't deny that part of me had always wanted to be rebellious and break the rules. Have some fun. Live for the moment. However, my common sense had always held me back. An annoying habit I have of thinking about my actions having consequences.

Dad never did say we couldn't touch his stuff. He didn't say we _could_,either, but as long as we were careful and put everything back I was sure he probably wouldn't mind. Probably wouldn't even notice. And if I _did _get in trouble at least Ash would be there too.

As I watched, Ash dipped a hand into the ants. Stupid. If he were to be bitten it would serve him right. Oblivious to the dangers, he retracted his hand and faced me, displaying a string of small black ants crawling the length of his pointer finger.

Amazingly, they weren't biting.

Ash was right--I'd been getting all hyped up over nothing. These ants weren't the big biting ants.

" Hmmm..." Ash looked thoughtful. Then he did something I never thought he'd do...he licked the ants off his finger! Gross!

I flinched uncomfortably. " That's disgusting! You eat _ants_? "

Ash swallowed. That easily. As if he were eating nothing more than a bite of chocolate bar. " Hey, it worked for Mowgli. But they don't really have a taste." He wiggled his hand back and forth in the so-so gesture. " Blah. They do tickle on the way down though. You wanna try? "

I stepped back, shaking my head in firm refusal. " No. I'll pass, thank you very much." There was now way _I_ was going to stick some yucky old ants in my mouth.

" Ah, come on. I _dare_ you! " He reached for the ant farm. Knocked it over on Dad's bed. Hundreds of ants poured out and ran all over; darting under the covers, inside the pillow slips...everywhere! 

It was an ant free-for-all!

" _Ash_." I groaned. Dad was not going to be happy about this. We weren't even supposed to be here! 

Ash awarded me a sheepish grin. " Heheh...oops. " He quickly set the ant farm upright and snapped the lid back into place, setting it back on the stand. Nice, but it didn't change the fact that there were still oh, say, a gazillion ants having a field day on our father's bed. Plus the sawdust. Can't have a party without confetti, right?

" Quick! Help me get this in the wastebasket! " Ash began scooping litter and ants alike into his cupped palms.

I didn't really want to help him. It was his mess and _he_ should be the one to clean it up. But Dad was going to be very angry with both of us if we didn't fix it right away. So I pitched in, gathering handfuls of ants and litter granules and throwing them into the wastebasket in the opposite corner. However, there was still a problem.

" The ants are going to crawl out of the garbage you know." I said coolly.

Ash laughed nervously. " Um...maybe he wont notice."

I rolled my eyes. " Right. Dad walks in and there are armies of ants crawling in his bedding, swarming out of the wastebasket, and he's going to be all _'Ho-hum, nothing wrong with **this** picture. Yep. Everything's peachy here.'_ Get real. Plus you messed his ant farm up. He's going to notice. And who do you think he'll blame? We're the only kids for miles around! " 

" But it was an accident! " 

" It was no accident we were in this room! " I shot back.

Ash sighed, defeated. It was finally starting to sink in that we were not in a very good situation. 

" Well, what else can we do? " He threw his arms up, almost yelling at me like it was all my fault, " We can't catch every one of those ants and put them back where they came from! Maybe they'll just crawl away and get lost in the house. They're so tiny you wouldn't even know they were there unless you...well, knew they were there. "

He had a point. I still wasn't comfortable with it, but, like Ash had pointed out, what could we do?

It didn't take very long--maybe two or three minutes--before we had the bedspread back to normal again and ant-free. Mostly. It was just too hard to catch every single one. There were probably dozens still lurking just beneath the covers.

" Well, now we can get back with our exploring. Might as well until we hear someone coming." Ash said, not really leaving much room open for argument.

I didn't have a better idea. " Okay, what are we looking for? " 

Ash shrugged. " I don't know, something cool." He kneeled down on all fours and peered under the bed. " Nope. Nothing breathtaking down here."

My eyes flitted to a small cabinet near the dresser. There was a good chance there might be something halfway cool in there. I passed a creepy-looking music box with a weird blue ant decorating the lid on the way over to it. 

What was the deal with the ants around here?

The first cabinet drawer slid open easily, revealing a small red diary laying temptingly atop a messy mound of notebooks and papers. The cover was leather and well-worn; it no doubt contained a lot of entries. 

" Dad's diary! I found Dad's diary! " I snatched that sucker up and flipped open to the inner-cover. Sure enough, the words Alfred Ashford were written there in fine gold lettering along with the years 1982-1984. Wow. Eight, nine, and ten years ago. It went without saying that the diary was very thick.

" What's it say? " Ash snickered, " Read aloud. Story time! "

I grinned like a kid who just received word that the school bully was moving out of town and never coming back. Naughty! I was going to be downright naughty! Diaries were a person's personal possession and contained some of their deepest thoughts; the secrets they would share with no one. And now I was going to read Dad's. Being bad never felt so good. This was going to be fun!

I turned to the first entry. The writing was all in black ink in a delicate cursive. I began to read, careful to keep my voice low enough so that only Ash would hear and no one else: " _September 25, 1982. Great news! Alexia got back from Harvard today! After a whole dreadful week of being apart we are at last reunited. Words cannot express my joy at seeing her back and well. Sadly, it would seem she wasn't quite as happy to see me as I was her. From the moment she set foot through the door all she could do was grump and complain about my lack of self-discipline and control. I must have apologized a thousand times over for my ineptness, but clearly her troubles go deeper than what I can see on the surface as she was in a particularly foul mood. Must've had a bad time at the university. I thought I'd cheer her up by bringing her a bowl of her favorite ice cream--vanilla--into her room while she sat at her desk reading a volume on bio....bio..._" I stumbled on the word. It was a very big one I'd never seen before, and I had no clue how to pronounce it.

Ash lifted an eyebrow. " Bio-what? "

I shrugged helplessly. " I don't know. We'll just say bio-something and leave it at that. Probably not important anyway."

Ash sprung onto the bed and stretched out, placing both hands behind his head and lightly closing his eyes; clearly enjoying himself. " Go on."

I felt like a teacher reading a story to the class. " Ok. Where was I...oh yeah, bio-something." I cleared my throat and continued, " _However, this proved to be a mistake as, with a murderous flare in her eye, she snatched the bowl right out of my hands and creamed the contents into my face, saying "How many times must I warn you not to disturb me while I am reading? You're lucky I don't take that spoon and ram it down your gullet you thoughtless worm!" making it all too clear that I was not to repeat this action again without prior permission. I left the room stifling back tears and feeling worthless. How could I have been so careless? September 26, 1982. Today kicked major..._" I paused, noting a bad word. 

Adults said it was bad-mannered to swear. So why did they do it all the time? 

__

" ...butt." I substituted before carrying on, " _I woke up miserable at first, thinking my dear sister would still be angry with me._ _Quite the contrary. I was in for a pleasant surprise when I opened the door to her room to apologize for my ill manners last night. Instead of scowling at me, she pounced upon me like a friendly lioness! Even gave me a kiss on the cheek! _"

" Euw," Ash interrupted, " Brother-Kisser! "

I read on, ignoring him even though I shared the same opinion, " _Overjoyed, I returned the kiss and asked what it was that had caused the sudden change of heart. Giggling, she replied that her studies had gone quite well after I left last night and that she now required a test-subject. But first, she stated, she had the reply to a question I had asked a while back. Could it be? Was she really thinking about what I had asked? My heart must've been pounding a million miles a minute as I waited for her to say more. When she did, it was all good news and exactly what I wanted to hear. "The answer is yes." She told me in a seductive purr, "Right after you help me out with the experiment." There was no containing my grin. "So you're going to..." "Hush" She had put a finger to my lip, and I felt as though I were gazing into the glacier eyes of a wicked angel cast from Heaven, "Not another word of this until later tonight, when everyone is sound asleep. Right now I require your assistance with the new solution I have created...." The rest of the **day** was pretty uneventful. We scouted out various eligible candidates for the experiment, and not with much luck. Alexia is dead-set on the subject being a child for some reason that is beyond my full comprehension. Only problem with that is: there are no children around these parts other than her and myself. Needless to say, once again my twin amazed me by overcoming all odds and finding a loophole. Using her charm and expertise, she was able to convince our father to invite cousin Diana over for a visit this weekend. Cousin Di is only eight years old and should work perfectly. We figure, she's an orphan anyway--daughter of our late Aunt Sarah--and she won't be missed. She should feel privileged she gets to take part in our research. But that is for a later night. Right now, I must see what my twin wishes to discuss. September 27, 1982. I can't believe it! We did it! We actually **did **it! Late last night I rendezvoused with my sister in her room. She seemed cheery, and in high spirits. When I inquired as to the cause of such joy ( though I suspect I already knew ) she narrowed her eyes and gave me a mischievous, almost evil smirk like I had seen her use many a time in the past on our victims. She sat on the side of her bed and motioned for me to sit next to her, to which I gladly complied. I will always remember that wild spark in her eyes when she said in a soft, velvety voice, " The cosmic influences of the seminal fluid in the great beyond of the ad infinitum are coming together in the heated vortex within." _ "

I stopped, confused in every sense of the word. What was _that_ supposed to mean? I was sure at least some of the words were English, yet I didn't understand the sentence. Our Aunt Alexia talked very strange. I didn't understand a word of it.

Apparently, neither did Ash. Bolting upright on the bed, and with a puzzled expression, he asked, " Huh? "

" That's what it says! " I pointed to the words in the diary, holding it out for him to see even though I knew he was too far away to actually read.

Ash shook his head, irritated. " Yes, I know, but what does it _mean_? "

I put a hand to my forehead in frustration. " I don't know. You're the nine year old, you tell me."

Ash wrinkled his nose at me the way he would a plateful of cooked beets. " Beats the heck out of me. I've never even _heard_ of those words before. Maybe it's another language? Or a secret code? Read on, let's see what Dad thinks about it."

I swallowed and cleared my throat, mouth a little dry from all that talking. " _This confused me, so I kindly asked her to repeat using simpler terms._"

" Understandable." Ash cut in, " What's next? " 

" _Leaning close, she whispered, "Duh, I want to commit incest with you, Brother"_."

I stopped again. Looked to Ash. " Ash, what is incest? "

" It's a little perfumed stick you light and you burn it in rooms to make them smell better. I have a whole bunch of sticks of cherry incest at home. Maggie lights them too when she's cleaning house." His face took on a more bitter appearance, " She really bugs me sometimes. Keeps wanting me to call her 'Mom' like I used to when I thought she _was _my mom. But she isn't my mother, so why should I call her that? "

I shook my head, ignoring Ash's statement about Maggie. " That doesn't sound right. Incest sounds like it should be a do-ing word, you know, like run, cough, or skate? Something like that. The diary says _commit _incest, like commit a crime. So a scented stick wouldn't make sense. It would be like committing desk. How do you commit desk? "

" Well how do you commit run or cough? " Ash spat, " Trust me, I know what incest is. Like I said, it's a scented stick you light to make a room smell better. As sure as two plus two equals four."

I was still skeptical. That didn't sound right, but Ash knew more about these things than I did. Perhaps Dad worded it wrong? Oh well. It probably wasn't important anyway. I tried to flip to the next page, but the pages were stuck together. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to open them in case Dad found out. Hmmm...a later entry, perhaps? 

" The pages are stuck together, so I'm skipping to a later date." I announced, flipping to a random page way back near the end of the diary. 

The entry was labeled _August 13, 1984_. I began to read. " _I can't take it. I can't deal with it. Only six weeks since my dear twin went into hibernation, and already I am suffering from the loneliness of being without her touch. Each day at dawn and just before nightfall I visit her in her blissful slumber. Her fair skin so delicate and smooth, her flowing golden hair so radiant and full of life. Lips that mock the ruby red rose. So close, yet so far away. It is like a dagger through my heart; to have her so near, yet not be able to interact, to allow her the warmth of my touch, to communicate. To let her know I am living true to my word. If only she could see me now. See how much I miss her. If there is a Hell, than surely I must be in it. Living like this from day to day is nothing short of torture, a torture from which there is no escape. No one to console me. I cannot trust anyone. It is beyond their comprehension. Many would be aghast to know the true extent of my relationship with my sister, to learn of the sins of which we have committed. It means nothing to me. Alexia and I share a bond that transcends mere siblinghood; our souls are fused together in the glorious path of destiny. And that makes it just. She is cut, I bleed. You cannot do onto one of us without also afflicting the other. A concept which I don't expect the short-sighted worker ants to understand. They exist for only one purpose, and that is to serve. Alexia and I are better than that. We always will be. Through these tough times, I must stand strong. I must bear the torch alone and defend her with my life, as I swore on the Ashford blood I would. But without her guidance I feel myself slipping, teetering on the edge of the cliff of insanity. I wish at least that I might have little Alexis to console me, the fruit of the love between Alexia and I. She possesses some of her mother's spark, some of Alexia's greatness. Perhaps I should make arrangements, have her brought here to help me cope...no! Mustn't allow myself to think that way. Alexis is with another family now, and that is the way Alexia wants it. Both her and Ash are to remain with their faux families until their mother, my dear beloved sister Alexia, awakens...._" I stopped right their, my whole world rocked.

__

My parents were brother and sister? Then it was true, in all those stories....it was Alexia, _my mother_, not some other person. My aunt and mom....they were one and the same! 

Shocking, yet...somehow deep down it was like I had always secretly known.

" Whoa! Time out, time out! " Ash tapped one hand into the outstretched palm of his other in the universal signal, " Aunt Alexia is really our _mother?! _"

I nodded, a sick feeling knotting up in the pit of my stomach. " Yes. That's what it says."

Ash shook his head, a look of wonder on his face. " Wow! And just when you think you have it all figured out. Our parents are also our aunt and uncle. Cool! Four relatives in two! Though it's also kinda weird..."

" It is." I agreed. Briefly, my eyes flitted back to the photo. Took that scene in once again. I didn't like it. It was neat that my mother was a genius and all, and I really couldn't care less about her and Dad being twin brother and sister. 

What bothered me was the coldness, the lack of emotion. I felt weird inside. A feeling I can't really describe. Like I didn't really know if I was proud to be related or not. How could I know when both her and my father talked using big words? I admit; I didn't understand over half of what Dad was saying in his journal. Even less of what Mom was saying. 

The problem with being eight years old. If I were older then maybe it would make more sense. However...Mrs. Phelps had never had anything bad to say about my mother. All those heroic stories came back in a blur. Those I did understand.

Perhaps I was just getting a glimpse of what Mom was like on bad days?

If so, then it really wouldn't be fair to judge her. After all, I wouldn't want a person to judge me so quickly based on one or two bad days. I would give her the benefit of the doubt, as my caretakers had so often said about people.

When I next looked to Ash his titanic grin could rival a crocodile's. " Hey! Both of our parents are very pretty. And Mother Alexia is going to come back some day and take us back when she does! Isn't that _awesome_! "

I frowned. No, it wasn't. Well, at least I didn't think so right now. " Actually, I like living with Mr. Rosken and Mrs. Phelps. They both are really super nice to me, and I think they would be sad if..."

Ash waved a hand, cutting me off. " Ah, phooey! Wake-up call _dear_ sister! They don't care about you. All they care about is the money Father gives them to look after us."

" That's not true! " I hissed. How could he even think that way? I'd met Maggie a few times and she had a big heart. One of the nicest people I'd ever met. She would probably let Ash get away with murder. How could he talk so badly behind her back?

Ash furrowed his eyebrows. " Oh really? It's never even crossed your mind that Dad is super-rich and our 'families' would both be dirt poor if it weren't for his monthly checks? Come on, do either of your 'caretakers' even have jobs? You know, other than looking out for you? "

" Mr. Rosken works as a welder down at Grant's Machinery." I declared proudly, rushing to my foster-dad's defense.

Ash cracked up like I'd just told a joke. " Welder! That's where the big bucks are I'll bet! That's below even peanuts compared to what our real dad makes. Has this ever occurred to you? By taking you into their family they are able to live more...leisurely. They are doing it for themselves, not you. You should hate them for it."

" I don't! " I snapped, blood boiling, " But I'm beginning to hate _you_! I don't care what you say, you're wrong. They do care about me. And I would feel the same for them even if we were living in a cardboard box out on a street corner begging for scraps of food from passing people! "

Ash's eyes flashed with anger, his cheeks just starting to flush. " Oh yeah? I'll bet I'll find all the proof I need right her, right in Dad's diary! " He ripped the diary from my hand before I had time to protest. In the process, he lost my page and the journal was now at a slightly later entry. 

Ash began to read. In his rush he started in the middle of a sentence. "...complaints of the monster down in the basement of the Antarctic base. His inhuman roars have been startling my workers and subtracting from their abilities to perform their daily duties. I told them that it was all just a myth, but for some reason that does little to comfort them. Shall have to quiet the monster down..."

" Ash! Little Alexia! " A female voice from down the hall called, interrupting, " Is that you? "

Some people around here had this annoying habit of calling me 'Little Alexia.' Probably because I happen to resemble her. Maybe a little bit because of my middle name, too.

Ash dropped the diary back into the cabinet drawer and slammed it shut at light speed. " Quick! We can't let her find us! "

" But where are we going to hide? " I scanned the room frantically. Unless you were a mouse, there weren't a lot of places to hide. We were slightly too big to fit under the bed. Too wide to fit behind the dresser. We needed to think of something quick!

Footsteps pounded the hall. Closer...closer!

My heart thudded in my chest. Trapped! We were going to be in big trouble!

Then I saw it--a small grill near the head of the bed. Probably an air vent. It was by no means large, but it would be just big enough for a couple of kids to crawl through.

" Look, a vent! " I ran over to the grill and pulled it off. Was shoved rudely aside by Ash.

" I'm first, I'm _always_ first! " He crouched down and began crawling in.

" Kids? Is that you? " Uh-oh! She was right outside the door now!

I helped push Ash in and scrambled to make it in myself. 

" Are you in there? "

_No! _I answered silently. The doorknob started to spin. I pushed all the harder. Ash, the big slow-poke was going to get us caught!

Finally all the way in! There was no time to replace the screen, just MOVE!

The door creaked open.

Ash and I picked up the pace. 

" Ash? Alexis? " A confused voice. Then, " Oh ..." She said a word I will not repeat, " Alfred's going to have my head for this! "

We kept on. The shaft was dark and the view wasn't the best in the world, being I was behind Ash and all and he took up most of the tunnel. 

" We made it." He sounded relieved.

" Yeah. Where are we going now? "

Ash cackled insanely. " To go find this monster, of course. Dad says it lived in the basement of the Antarctic base, and this is the Antarctic base. Maybe it's still there."

" Are you crazy! What if it eats us alive! " I really, really did not want to be hunting monsters down. Monsters were called monsters for a reason, and most of the ones I'd heard about ate little kids for supper. 

" Come on now, you're not going to go all sissy on me now are you, _sissy_? " Ash teased, " Cause one way or another I'm going, and if you don't follow you could miss seeing something really cool. Besides, it's been a long time, monster might not even be there anymore."

" What if it is? "

" If it is, then we'll just stay hidden. You know, not let it see us. This is going to be so awesome! I've never seen a real life monster before."

" I was always hoping I never would."

" Aw, quit being such a wuss. This is your chance to prove you're brave! Go with me, and I'll never call you a sissy ever again. _And_, I'll wait for you on Sonic and Tails. For real, this time. I swear." 

I thought about this. He could be lying but I didn't want him to think I was scared, even though I really kinda was. Besides, he would be right there with me. And if we ran into anything, we didn't have to let it see us.

" Alright." I agreed, " Let's find this monster."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bell rang, signifying the end of lunch and the end of my misery. 

And I swear, Madam Hag looked disappointed to have to let us go free. " Alright everyone, back to class now. And this time, try not to make jerks of yourselves."

I headed out the door, biting back a sarcastic remark that begged to express itself. Fine. Let the old witch rot in her lair. I had other things to be doing and it wouldn't break my heart if I never saw her again. 

The cute Latino boy sided up with me in the hall. " Don't take it personally, she's always crabby. Nobody really likes her."

I snorted. " I can see why."

We pushed past throngs of kids fumbling with their lockers. Is it just me, or are those things harder than necessary to get open? Sometimes I had to beat mine into submission before it'd finally surrender with a sad creak.

" Oh, by the way, my name's Miguel." He stopped and extended his hand, a friendly smile warming his features. " A pleasure to meet you, Alexis."

I smiled and shook his hand. " A pleasure meeting you, too. It's good to know that not all shreds of decency and kindness have left this school."

We both had a chuckle at that. " Yeah. A lot of the people around here can't accept anyone different than them. So you have two basic social groups here: the 'cool' people and that 'not cool' people. It's not right, but you can't do anything about it 'cept just play it cool and try not to tick anyone really popular off, because then you'll have them and all their best buds doing their part to make your life as miserable as possible."

" Sounds like you've had experience." I said, then wished I'd kept my mouth shut. Why did I say that? That was kinda mean. 

Miguel sighed, his glossy black hair reflecting traces of the fluorescent lights overhead. He looked upset.

" Sorry, Miguel I..." He didn't let me finish.

" No, you're right." We came to a stop in front of a bank of lockers. He began spinning a combination on one, eyes focused on his work and not on me, " When I first came to this school last year a lot of the kids...even some of the teachers, picked on me. I used to make up any story I could think of to try and stay home, just so I could avoid going. Then my dad brought me to a counselor and she helped me realize that you can't run away from your problems. You just have to adapt and change. So I generally try not to draw attention to myself. Keep a low profile, not do anything that would put me on people's radar. So far this has been working pretty well for me. The jocks leave me alone at least. Well, most of the time."

The locker came open. He reached inside and grabbed an Algebra book. " I'm kinda a loner, you could say."

" You warmed up okay to me." I offered, " And there's nothing wrong with being different."

Miguel grabbed his binder and slammed his locker before turning to flash me a grin. " See, that's what I like about you: you're really sweet. That's a rare trait in this school."

I returned his smile. Really, he was a nice kid. " The feeling is entirely mutual, my friend."

He nodded, like I'd said just the right thing. " Well, the bell will ring in a minute and I don't want to make you late to class. See you around."

" See you around, Miguel. Goodbye! " I turned and headed of for my locker. Checked the clock.

Good Lord! 12:23 already....I only had two minutes! Naturally, I still had to go upstairs to get to my locker, then scuttle back down for English. And since I couldn't run like the Flash...no question about it, I was going to be late. 

My English teacher was not going to like that.

This school really needed to give a person more time to get to classes.

I hurried up the stairs as fast as I could, nearly tripping on the steps along the way. However, the thought of being late to a class didn't bother me as much as it used to. Sure, the teachers tended to be rather ill-tempered when that happened. And sure, they didn't know how to cut a person slack. This really wasn't the best of schools.

But at least I was not in it alone.

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Stay tuned for Part V! =^.^=

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